


A Picture is Worth 1000 Words (and all of them are I Love You)

by hippiechick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:49:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9217349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippiechick/pseuds/hippiechick
Summary: A photo shoot for Detective Magazine leads to the truth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [THIS](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/78/5f/25/785f25a5ca63dc2c4202cd6b33ae1493.jpg)

John watched Sherlock snap his collar up on that damned Belstaff and it was all he could do to keep it in his pants. Not that Sherlock would ever want it out of his pants. He signed heavily, pulled his own scarf a bit tighter and followed his flatmate down the 17 steps to Baker Street.

"Come, John. We'll be late for this meeting."

"You haven't even told me what it's for, just what to wear--and I'm not thrilled with this outfit you picked out. Checked button-down under my ratty porridge-colored jumper?? Ugh. And you in a silk T-shirt with jeans? Didn't even realize you owned such pedestrian clothing." Although John knew there was nothing Primark about Sherlock's outfit. Those skintight jeans had to run several hundred quid.

They clambered into the cab and headed off. Sherlock kept a close eye on his phone, researching god knew what. Probably where to get the best sulphuric acid for some hideous experiment. London rolled by as the headed for this unknown adventure.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The pretty young thing kept eyeballing Sherlock as she led them to a large room set up as a photography studio. John couldn't decide if he should dissuade PYT of her notions about Sherlock or demand to know what was going on. He decided on putting himself between PYT and Sherlock. If the mad bastard didn't want to tell him yet, he wouldn't get it out of him, not matter how much John pleaded.

The photographer greeted them (yet another PYT, tall, lithe and louche, much like Sherlock, who was eyeballed up and down yet again. John just shook his head and decided to let it go.) and pointed them to comfy chairs while they waited for the interviewer. As he went to search for the journalist, John took the time alone to question Sherlock. "What the hell is going on here? What kind of interview are we doing? Please tell me we aren't London's most eligible bachelors, being put out for the meat market that is the singles scene. This outfit will not help me get a leg over at all."

"No, it's for a case, mostly. I didn't want you to panic and overthink this before we left the flat. Mrs. Hudson's nephew is engaged to the photographer but suspects he's cheating on him. It's only a favor for Hudders. You know I'd never take something like this for real. I presumed to put her in our debt for the next few experiments that might not be to her liking." Sherlock gave John his best fake innocent look; John just laughed at him.

"OK, for Mrs. Hudson only. So what's our story?"

"Take a look around, John. We are giving an interview for Detective Magazine. They're looking to up their readership and believe a bit of our notoriety will help. It won't, of course, because it will never make it to press, but again--for Hudders."

The interviewer finally arrived with the photographer. They wanted to interview and photograph them separately so Sherlock went off to the studio and John to the interview room. Eventually, they switched, then took a few pictures together and were on their way back to Baker Street.

"Well, did you figure it out? Is PYT cheating? And why did I have to wear this outfit?"

"No, not at this time, but he has cheated in the past on previous partners. He doesn't seem to be inclined to do so now that he's with Duncan. All is well in the world of the lovestruck." No answer was forthcoming regarding his jumper.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Several days later, John answered the door to find a courier with a large flat parcel for the both of them. "Sherlock, come here. This is for both of us. Wonder what it could be? It's got no return address."

John pulled out his pocket knife and slit the edge. In between several pieces of thin cardboard were pictures from the photo shoot. He began to sort through them when Sherlock reached over and snatched them from his hands. As Sherlock sorted through them, John tried to look over the the edge but couldn't get to the right angle. Sherlock pulled one out and gave the rest back to him, then ran for his bedroom. John watched him dash down the hall wondering what was up. As he looked through the stack of photos, he thought his looked okay, but that Sherlock's were amazing. He wondered if he could manage to hide one in his room as a bit of wank material. Oh god no--it would be discovered immediately. He did NOT want to have that discussion with Sherlock!

Sherlock didn't answer his calls so he went back to working on his blog. About 30 minutes later, Sherlock appeared with a frame in his hand. "John, this is for you. I hope that as you look at it, you will understand without me having to explain too much."

"Erm, OK, Sherlock. Let me see what you've got there." John took in the creamy paleness of Sherlock's skin in the picture, with that infuriatingly sexy mole on his even more infuriatingly long sexy neck just calling to him. Sherlock's right arm was up with his hand behind his head; his left hand rested on the waistband of his jeans just below where his shirt rode up his stomach. Dear god, that swathe of even paler skin that showed between the light blue silk and the dark blue denim. This was going to fuel his wanks for months. As he looked again, wondering what Sherlock wanted him to see, it took a few moments. He could hear Sherlock's breath as he stood stock still, waiting for John to make the connection. John raised his eyes to Sherlock's gray ones and said, "Are those, is that, why are you....OH." And with that, he launched himself at Sherlock, arms going around that thin strong body and his lips finally tasting that beautiful neck.

"I didn't know what else to do, John. You know I'm not good at these things, either. But I know you love them, so I thought you might like to know that I do, too. So yes, those are your red pants. And you know why."

Sherlock leaned down and softly kissed John. When he kissed his way across John's jawbone to his ear, he whispered raggedly, "Now let's go get them off of me."


	2. Epilogue

Tangled together on Sherlock's bed, heavy breathing and fast heart rates finally back to normal, John asked again, “Why did I have to wear my old ratty jumper for that photo shoot? You never did tell me.”

“Are you kidding me, John? Why would I let someone else see what is now mine? I couldn’t risk it that the magazine would actually go to press and some person would try to sweep you off your feet based on seeing your perfectness. No, I have always fully intended for you to be mine alone, and I yours, of course. Even if someone wanted me based on my body alone, my personality is enough to put anyone off. Why it hasn’t done so for you is a miracle that I will not question. But I needed you in that old outfit because that’s the only thing I could think of that might even come close to putting someone off of you. You are friendly, easy to talk to, caring, handsome. Who wouldn’t want you?" John could feel the tears prickling at his eyes, both for the sentiment and for Sherlock's beliefs about himself. He kissed Sherlock gently on the lips, murmuring "Yours, always yours, luv."


	3. Next epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doubts are soothed.

John was going through the pictures from the Detective Magazine shoot when he turned to Sherlock with a questioning look. "I didn't even notice you took [this](http://media.vanityfair.com/photos/57ed430375f9c0a12314ae45/master/h_590,c_limit/benedict-cumberbatch-november-2016-ss01.jpg) shirt with you that day."

"Yes, John, I know how observant you are."

"Oh shut it, you git."

"But you still love me."

"Maybe," John said with a big grin. "I really wish they hadn't slicked your hair back so much in these pictures. It adds years to your face."

"But John, who would trust a kid--albeit a genius--with their problems? One must look the part."

John reached up and ran his fingers through those beautiful curls on Sherlock's head. "Maybe just as well. Don't need anyone else getting ideas about doing this to you." He swept those curls off Sherlock's ear and licked around the shell of it, then kissed that lovely ear gently. A shiver ran through Sherlock that John was quite proud of causing. "You have such a far away dreamy look on your face. What were you thinking of?"

Sherlock remained quiet for a few moments then turned to John with an unsure look on his face. "We had already taken [the picture with the red pants](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/78/5f/25/785f25a5ca63dc2c4202cd6b33ae1493.jpg) so mostly I was thinking about possible outcomes to that situation. Let me see [the picture](http://media.vanityfair.com/photos/57ed430375f9c0a12314ae45/master/h_590,c_limit/benedict-cumberbatch-november-2016-ss01.jpg) again. Oh, right about then, I was definitely thinking of the resolution we actually ended up with. You and I naked, sweaty, and coming. I do rather like that thought--and it looks good on me, I'd say!"

"Surely you had no doubts about how your 'picture confession' would turn out. You had to know I've wanted you for as long as we've known each other. I thought I was always fairly obvious."

"Well, now you know several things, John. 1-You weren't as obvious as you thought and 2- if you were, I didn't get it. Yes, me, I know. But how could I believe you, perfect John Hamish Watson, actually felt that way for me. No one ever had so how was I to recognize the signs?" Sherlock's head was hanging down as he finished his words, looking as dejected as he sounded.

In one swift move, John was kneeling in front of Sherlock with his hands cupping Sherlock's face. "No, no, no, no. Never think that. You are amazing, full of heart and joy. Anyone that doesn't see that is an idiot. I will always want you, always, Sherlock. Do you hear me? Always. As codependent as it might be, I cannot, will not, make it in this world without you. The sooner you believe that, sooner we can get on with the nakedness, sweating, and coming. And loving. Because I do love you, Sherlock. Always have, always will." John leaned up and softly kissed those gorgeous lips, then the tip of Sherlock's nose and each closed eye.

Sherlock reached out and pulled John in closer, nuzzling into his neck with kisses of his own. Soon he worked his way across John's jaw to those lips that fit perfectly with his. He slid off his chair and brought John to the floor with him. He straddled John's hips and continued to kiss for all his worth. His arms went under and around John's shoulders to hold him tightly, so as to let him know that Sherlock was also in it for always.

Sherlock pulled his head up so he could see those blue eyes he so loved. He murmured to John, "It's time for more naked, sweat and come." With that, he jumped up, pulling John with him. "Last one to the bedroom has to sleep in the wet spot!"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all the fabulous writers of fanfic much better than mine. You inspire me to keep trying.


End file.
